Walking small-town streets, pushing Lunabella,
I count up sixty years of steering strollers
full of sleeping babies in the morning sun,
past rows of cottages behind white picket fences,
domestic sounds tinkling
through open kitchen windows,
through open kitchen windows,
the shush-shush-shush of sprinklers
in flowery gardens.
Gentle is the muted call of dove,
in the big old tree above me.
The steam train whistles in the distance,
round low hills circle the town
like those of long ago,
and I am transported back to long-gone days
of dreaming of a cottage of my own,
and later days when I finally had one,
stuffed with leggy children,
laughing in the sun,
when life and I
were young.
Life repeats and repeats the same refrain,
then comes full circle, under this big old tree
as Luna slowly wakes,
opening her Old Soul eyes,
her gaze pure spirit,
smiling her sweet smile,
pure love and joy,
her presence in my life,
the gift of my old age.
awwww...isn't she an angel!! and how I love this line: opening her Old Soul eyes,...
ReplyDeleteWhat a sweet poem, Sherry. So glad you each have one another in your life.
ReplyDeleteThis is exactly how I want to feel before, during, and after reading a poem. Joy, from the moment I saw her picture on ... joy that I can take with me when I leave. Thank you for sharing this.
ReplyDeleteWhat a gorgeous gift and poem..sixty years of gently guiding strollers made me well up - but in a good way xo
ReplyDeleteEnchanting poem and images. Thank you for sharing this.
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful child. And - Lunabella - what a wonderful name. I love the way you've captured a sampling of random sights and sounds in this ... almost as if the reader is being strollered along through life's passages (the same refrain that, eventually, comes full circle). Some tender and evocative notes throughout this piece, Sherry.
ReplyDeleteJust beautiful !
ReplyDelete